Magical Lineage
by Lassuel
Summary: Dudley has dinner with his family one evening that contains some interesting conversations. History and the future are brought up.


Disclaimer: I know that Rowling has stated "any latent wizarding genes would never survive contact with Uncle Vernon's DNA", but this idea was too good not to write. I don't own any HP characters.

* * *

An old man sat in a brown leather reclining chair reading the Financial Times. He had gotten behind in his reading since his wife had died and his recent comings and goings at the cardiology wing of the local hospital. The stack of papers next to his chair had finally slowed growth and was beginning to shrink. He scratched at his combed back grey hair and then leaned back to turn on the lamp behind his chair. The sun had begun to leave the large window next to him. He expected his family to show up soon to take him to dinner.

Next to him was an empty winged back chair. The man could remember when his wife had picked out that pink floral print around 20 years ago. She would use the small matching pillow to support her back as she leaned against one of the wings when she was tired. His wife, Daisy, had died about a year ago. It had been sudden and in the middle of the night: a stroke. The kind and loving woman had lived with her husband in this "independent living" apartment for four years. Since then, it had been a constant battle to try to fit everything from their home of 30 years into a space half the size. Now, he was battling all alone. Every day he felt less and less desire to tackle the daily needs of life.

The room he sat in was the combination of their former living room and his study. Their two chairs sat in the corners besides the door. In a third corner was his desk since college piled high with papers. The fourth corner contained the only television in the apartment. The man sometimes still couldn't believe that he only had the one television. He had grown up in a house with four at least.

He had just finished an article when he heard the front door crack open. "Dad? We're here!" Using the arms of the chair to help, he pushed himself out his chair. It was just in time, too. His grandson came flying into the room yelling, "Grandpa!" A towering giant compared to the boy, but he was almost knocked over nonetheless when two small arms flung themselves around his middle. Smiles seemed too few and too far between on the wrinkled face. "Hello, David. How was the drive?"

"Boring! But I have lots to tell you, Grandpa." The boy whispered quickly as his parents came into the room. He retreated a few steps so that his parents could say hello as well.

"Hey, Dad. David didn't knock you over, did he?" His son, Michael, also hugged the man, but with a little less ferociousness. A shake of the head with a smile answered his son's question.

"Hello, Dudley." Michael's wife, Cynthia, following in suit, wrapped her arms around Dudley including a quick peck on his cheek. As Cynthia pulled back, Dudley could see their son, his grandson, David, standing near them, rocking on the balls of his feet. The ten year old really did have something to tell him. Must have been really important if he didn't want to say anything in front of his parents. "Ready?" The fair woman had a grabbed his jacket from the hall closet on her way in. She was handing it to him now.

Dudley pulled it on, took David's hand, and preceded them out the door. If he could play it right, he could get a couple of minutes alone with the boy.

The dining hall of his "independent living" apartment building was always too cold, but the staff was nice enough. He ate most of his meals here nowadays. There were a few long community tables where residents could eat with each other and several smaller tables for families joining their loved ones, like tonight. On one side of the large room was the buffet like area where people would go and get their plates of food together. It was day four of a twenty day rotation. That meant dinner was going to be salad, meatloaf, rice pilaf, and jello for dessert.

David and Dudley picked out a table in a corner near a window, sitting in two chairs right next to each other.

"Michael, would you mind getting my plate for me? I've been really tired today." He tapped on his chest, just over his heart, indicating that the old ticker was on a slow day. Michael smiled and nodded, leaving the table. Michael looked more like his mother than his father. He was a tall slender man with soft features. David, on the other hand, looked almost as if he could have been Dudley's twin when Dudley was ten, but half his size. David was ridiculously blonde with a thick skull that liked to bounce off things. David's parents were doing worlds better than Dudley's own had, in his honest opinion. David was a healthy weight and active in several school sports.

Cynthia was off getting David a plate together as he had requested to keep his grandpa company. Dudley still couldn't believe how nice his grandson was to him considering what a pain Dudley had been at that age. "So, what was it you wanted to tell me about?" The old man pressed his ear close to the boy.

"Grandpa, what do you know about magic?" The question struck Dudley in his heart. He knew too much and too little about the subject of magic. He had grown up with one of the world's most powerful magicians, and he had bullied that boy every second of every day, too. To make matters worse, that boy was his own cousin on his mother's side. Dudley looked David in the eye to try and see what was going on his head. The boy's face showed a bit of fear and a bit of excitement.

"A little. Why?"

"Because something happened at school and magic is the only way I can describe it." David was sitting on his hands to keep from fidgeting, but he could help not kicking his feet. Dudley had images of a thin, pale boy hiding behind a dumpster and suddenly ending up on the roof playing through his head.

"What happened at school, David?"

"Well, a couple of my friends dared me to climbed out on the balcony over the library. But it was rainy and windy and I slipped. Next thing I know, I'm in the library on top of one of the tall bookcases. I got in trouble for climbing the bookcases and getting the books all wet. There weren't any broken windows, so the only explanation I can come up with is magic."

"Have you talked to your parents about this?"

"NO! I didn't want them to think I was crazy and send me to a nut house." Dudley chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

"And yet you thought it was okay to tell me."

"Well, yeah." David looked down at his lap. Dudley could see that David was thinking that maybe telling his grandfather hadn't been such a good idea.

"I want to tell you something, David, and I want you to listen very carefully." He paused till David had nodded and was looking at him. "Magic is real. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. You aren't crazy and you're parents will understand."

Michael and Cynthia came back to the table with plates filled with bland, heart healthy food for all four of them. They switched to the topic of Michaels' and Cynthia's work. Michael was a financial advisor and Cynthia was an accountant. Business was good on both accounts, even though they were in another market down swing. As the meal finished, Michael asked David to take their plates over to the conveyor belt and pick up some dessert for them.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Michael." It seemed as if this evening was full of secret conversations.

"Are you still in contact with any of your cousins?" Dudley could almost laugh at the comedic situation that had presented itself before him. He had figured that there would be no magic genes in his lineage after his own parents absolute abhorrence with the subject. Sometimes reality really was stranger than fiction.

"You mean Uncle Harry?"

"Yes, I mean Uncle Harry."

"I can ask him about David if that's what you mean." Michael and Cynthia smiled at each other.

"David told you."

"Of course he did. I can write Uncle Harry if you want. I've been meaning to contact him, anyways." David arrived with their individual plastic cups of chemical green jello. The rest of the evening continued on pleasantly enough with goodbyes at the door to his apartment. He gave David an extra squeeze with his hug before sending them home.

Tomorrow. He would write Harry tomorrow.


End file.
